


One Heart or: Desperately Stuck and Hopelessly in Love

by smutdouble



Series: On Exhibit [1]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Bronzeshipping, M/M, eclipseshipping - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2020-12-31 20:02:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21151415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smutdouble/pseuds/smutdouble
Summary: Marik Ishtar spent the first fifteen years of his life in a cult compound in the Sahara desert. With his mother dead and his father's sanity slipping away, he turned to the twin living in their closet for care and companionship. Tonight, all of the simmering tensions boil over, spilling the twins out into the modern world.Prequel to On Exhibit/Pulling TrainsThere doesn't appear to be an archive warning to specifically indicate child abuse, so I'm putting that here.





	1. Marik

**Author's Note:**

> As with Model Con, this is mostly to help me put down some back story for On Exhibit. There are more notes at the beginnings of both of those stories, and I don't want to be too redundant, so I'm just going to jump in on this one.

Marik pressed his ear to the door, straining to catch any sound through the wood. Nothing. Smothering a giggle with his knuckles, he shuffled across the bare floor and burrowed under his sheets. The other body was already underneath them. As soon as Marik was horizontal, arms pulled him close. Marik gripped Kek's hair and leveraged him into a kiss. Their bodies ground and shifted together. 

"Are you sure you want to try this?" Marik breathed in Kek's ear.

By way of answer, Kek gripped Marik's ass with both hands and hitched harder against him. 

Marik sighed. Whether they dry humped each other until cum stained the fronts of their nightgowns, or took turns sucking each other empty, being with Kek always felt amazing. There was something powerful between them. Something magnetically synced. Their hearts beat together so that even in the womb the midwives had only heard one. How could they be expected to remain separate when they were clearly meant to be together? The gods must have split them so they could be together.

"Tell me if it hurts," Marik said. 

Kek nodded. 

Marik separated enough to squeeze his sister's lotion onto his fingers. Kek used the space to work his nightgown up around his waist. Then they pressed together as Marik reached behind Kek and hooked a finger into Kek's asshole. The muscle pulled at Marik's fingertip. Kek let out a sharp breath and nuzzled Marik's neck. 

"Is that okay?" Marik whispered. 

Kek nodded again, squirming and rocking, apparently torn between pressing onto Marik's finger and grinding on Marik's cock. Marik leaned around Kek's side and slid his finger deeper. He didn't know how much lotion they would need, but Kek felt so tight he figured too much was better than too little. He added more. A lot squished out around the edges, but Marik worked as much of it as he could as deep as he could. 

Marik paused. If Kek had been a girl, they would have lain belly to belly. However, he'd laid belly to belly with Kek enough times that he doubted it would work for this. "Um... you lie on your stomach, right?"

Kek shrugged and finished rolling over. Marik lifted the edge of his own night gown with his cleanest hand and tried to push his cock between Kek's cheeks. It slid awkwardly up and down Kek's crack. Marik gripped his shaft and directed his head, searching for the puckered ring by feel alone. 

The tip sank in suddenly. Kek cried out, clenching around it. Marik clapped a hand over Kek's mouth as his eyes darted to the door. "Shh!" He hissed, frozen still. Gods, if their dad caught them, crazy ideas about ka stealing demons aside, he might beat both of them.

Kek moaned, softer this time, squirming. 

Marik bit his lip. His forehead dropped to the back of Kek's head. The squeezing heat around his cock felt better than anything he'd imagined, and he wasn't even all the way in yet. He took a moment and then whispered, "Does- Does it hurt?"

Kek nodded. Marik could feel the hot breath coming fast and heavy through Kek's nose. 

"Should I... ah... stop?"

Kek shook his head. His hand squeezed Marik's hip. 

"Okay..." Marik kissed Kek's ear. "Slow..." Marik pushed forward. His hand smothered Kek's groans as his cock inched deeper. By the time he hilted himself, his hand was barely enough to keep Kek quiet. Marik paused to press kisses across the back of Kek's neck, dodging the bruise peaking out of his nightshirt without thinking about it. 

Kek managed to keep his volume low. Even as Marik eased out and then fought his way back in, Kek's moans remained muffled vibrations of his mouth on Marik's palm. With all of the squirming, however, Marik's nightgown kept shifting into the way. He was about to cast off the annoying garment entirely when the door opened. 

Marik's stomach dropped. Praying to see their stalwart servant, Rishid, or even the willowy silhouette of their sister, Isis, he turned his head just enough to peek sideways. The form in the door was tall. Swaying vaguely. No, no, no...

"Sneaking into my son's bed? How did you even get out of the closet? Get-!" The forms and shapes in the dark must have finally coalesced for the adult Ishtar. He choked on his words, hand flying to the light switch. 

Marik flinched, screening his eyes with his fingers.

"You- You-!" 

Marik scrambled to get up. A rough hand grabbed his shoulder and yanked. He managed to roll as he fell off the bed, landing hard on his hands and knees. 

"You steal my wife's ka!" Their dad grabbed Kek's hair and pulled him up. "You steal my son's akh! And you have gall to seduce him away from his clan duties!"

Marik scrambled to his feet, tripping on the edge of his nightgown in his panic. 

"I will not let you destroy this family!" Ishtar punched Kek's stomach. "Just give up!" He punched his jaw. "Relinquish my wife's ka and crawl back into the darkness you came from, monster!"

Kek clutched his stomach with one hand and his face with the other. 

"Dad!" Marik wrapped his arms around their father's elbow before he could swing his third punch. Ishtar's arm jerked. His elbow connected with Marik's chest and knocked him backwards onto his butt. 

"I should have strangled you with the cord you used to suck the life out of my wife, you parasite!" 

Kek pushed at their dad's chest, but he was much thinner and weaker, and Ishtar had alcohol fueled madness on his side. Angry hands latched around Kek's neck. They squeezed, shaking him. 

"Give up, demon!" Ishtar screamed. "Give up, give up, give up!"

Kek kicked at their dad's legs and clawed at their dad's hands. "Rishid!" Marik screamed from his spot on the floor. Kek's face turned red as he strained for air. "Dad! Stop!" Marik got to his feet and grabbed his dad's arm again. "Let Kek go! You're going to-"

Ishtar's head snapped around. His lips curled to reveal clenched teeth. "What did you say?" His voice had gone dangerously strained. 

He'd stopped shaking Kek, but he still hadn't let go. "Dad, please," Marik begged. "He didn't do anything, let him go!"

"Did you give this thing a name?" 

"He's not a thing, he's my-" Marik flinched and retreated a step when their dad turned fully toward him. Behind him, he saw Kek slink to the floor, coughing. 

"Do you know what you've done?" Spit flew from Ishtar's mouth. "She'll be lost forever now!"

"Please don't be mad at him. It was all my idea. Everything. You have to believe me!" It was only half a lie. No one had forced Marik to take pity on the child that lived in the hall closet. 

Their dad dragged his hands down his face. "Gods," he moaned. "This is what I get for being weak, isn't it? For refusing to accept her fate... for letting a demon stay alive in my home, whispering its lies to my children..."

Rishid appeared in the doorway, lingering uncertainly. Marik caught his eyes with a pleading look. 

"It was her all along, wasn't it?" Ishtar looked at the ceiling. "She was cursed... a dark magician... She betrayed me..."

Rishid took the melancholy turn in the man's mood as an opportunity to interrupt with, "Master?"

Ishtar turned toward him. 

Rishid bowed his head. "I've drawn your bath."

Ishtar made a frustrated sound and flipped his hand dismissively. 

Rishid swallowed, shooting another glance at Marik. "Maybe I could offer you a-"

"By the gods, shut up Rishid! This is a family matter!" 

Rishid's forehead creased, but he didn't move. 

Ishtar growled. "If losing an ear won't deter your eavesdropping, perhaps an eye!" His hand fumbled at his belt, searching for his gold dagger. 

Rishid tensed. Marik cringed. Kek, still on the floor, lunged at Ishtar's legs. Their dad gasped as blood blossomed on his house robe, fanning out around the dagger buried in his calf. 

Kek yanked out the gold blade as their dad's knee buckled. Getting a savage grip on their dad's hair, he yanked him backwards. Ishtar's hands flew up to shield his face and neck as Kek raised the dagger, but Kek aimed much lower. Their dad screamed as the blade sank into his belly. 

Marik froze, shocked. The second or two over which the events unfolded had happened too quickly to stop but too slowly to process. 

Rishid moved first. He reached for the pair on the floor as Kek struggled with the dagger. Marik didn't know if Kek was trying to pull the dagger out for another strike, or across to widen the wound. He didn't know what Rishid planned to do once he broke up the scuffle. If Rishid even could do anything.

Marik did know that if his dad survived, this would be it for Kek. For all of them. The same thing Kek had probably realized three or four seconds earlier. Marik grabbed a heavy, stone obelisk off his dresser. As their dad grabbed Kek's wrists, Marik surged forward and hit him in the face as hard as he could with the improvised weapon. He missed their dad's eye, but the tip tore a ragged cut through his cheek. 

Rishid's attention twitched to Marik as he tried to decide who to stop first. Their dad's grip on Kek's wrists loosened for a moment. It was all Kek needed to put the dagger in his neck. Their dad finally managed to smack the knife away, but there was already an obscene amount of blood soaking the front of his torso. Marik grabbed Kek's hand and pulled him out from under the man as he rolled onto his hands and knees. 

"Cursed... filth..." Ishtar coughed. Blood spattered the carpet. "Rishid... Rishid!" Another cough. "Get Shadi... Get Mahad..."

Marik had never seen Rishid look scared before. When their dad yelled, hit him, even when he'd cut off his ear... He took it with stoic dignity. Like he understood and accepted his lot in life.

"Go!" More coughing. Every time Ishtar tried to raise his voice it only led to more coughing. "I'll take your skin... off! Bastard!"

"Rishid," Marik whimpered, looking up at him with wide eyes. Marik had never known his mother, but he'd always known Rishid. 

"You need to leave," Rishid said with strained calm. 

"It's not Kek's fault," Marik pleaded. "He was going to kill us. We... I..."

Rishid gripped Marik's shoulders tightly and stared at him hard. "You have to run, master Marik," he whispered firmly. "I'll delay everyone as long as I can, but you can't stay here."

"This is murder," Ishtar growled. "Ammut will have your hearts for this..."

"Come with us," Marik insisted. "Please."

"Mistress Isis will need me," Rishid said.

Isis. She must have heard everything. She'd be hiding in her room, waiting for the screaming to stop. Marik bit his lip. His chest hurt. He'd been reckless. He hadn't been thinking. "I'm sorry..."

"I know," Rishid nodded. 

Kek sidled up to Marik, hugging his arm. Their dad had stopped talking, but he was still breathing. Marik couldn't decide if he hoped the man would live or die. What would he do to Rishid and Isis if he lived? How heavy would murder make his and Kek's heart?

It wasn't for him to know. The gods would figure it out. Marik needed to have faith that the gods would understand. "I know a way to sneak out," Marik whispered. "Isis showed me."

Rishid nodded. "Good luck, Master Marik. I'll leave an offering to Shai for you."

As long as he hurried, Marik didn't think anyone would give the son of a high priest a sideways glance despite the late hour. Kek was a different story. Very few people outside of the temple knew about Kek. If his father's superstitions about matching siblings had spread among them, Marik doubted he could talk his way out of it, next in line for the priesthood or not. 

Marik pulled the sheet off his bed. "Wrap up," he told Kek. "Don't let anyone see you."

Kek obeyed, pulling the sheet low over his face and wrapping it over his bloody clothes. Marik took him by the arm and ushered him out into the hallway. They took the back exit. Marik already knew how to disconnect the alarm on top of the door. 

Once they entered the alleys outside, it was easy to make their way to the chain link fence surrounding the town. It took Marik a few tries to find the landmarks in the dark. Especially because getting too close to the fence might attract the attention of the guards. Eventually he located the loose patch of sand at the loose corner of fence and tucked Kek through it. 

There was a small city within riding distance. The midwives and healers went there for supplies every month or so, but contact with the modern world was largely forbidden to anyone else. They were people who laughed in the faces of the old gods and ancient ways. They would suffer the horrors of the afterlife lost in dark oblivion. If the followers of the old ways walked among them for too long, they might also find themselves drawn off the path of order and truth laid out by Maat.

The descriptions Marik often heard from his father did not paint an appealing picture, but it was better than dying in the desert. At least it would buy him some time to figure out what to do next. Holding hands, focusing only on getting as far from town as possible, the blond twins raced blindly into the night.


	2. Kek

Kek's throat hurt when he breathed and the left side of his face felt tight and warm. Pain was a close and familiar part of his existence. The earliest thing he remembered was the man Marik called their dad carving an X into his back, so that he could always tell the two children apart. Always know which one was the right one, and which one was the tainted after image that had ruined everything. He was never comfortable. Never allowed to be comfortable. It was supposed to chase him away. Make him give up on being mortal. But it was too much. Too much for too long. Pain meant nothing to him anymore. It was boring. Like breathing and blinking. A simple thing his body did.

Being outside. That was interesting. Feeling warm air move on his face and hands. Smelling... hearing... he wasn't even sure what, really. Just everything. More than cleaning solution and cooking meals and alcoholic breath. More than running water and raised voices and careful footsteps. Trash, he knew. He smelled several things that he could have described as trash. Smoke, he knew. He smelled several things he could have described as smoke.

And lights! Traffic lights, Marik said. Street lights. Headlights, taillights...

Marik stopped and sat on a bench underneath a glass and metal structure. Kek hadn't learned to read properly, but he saw something that he recognized as a map sandwiched between two of the glass panes. He stared at it, trying to make sense of the brightly colored lines tracing the streets.

Then he heard a sound he did know. The soft hiccup of Marik swallowing a sob. He crouched in front of the other teenager, crossing his arms on his knees. Sad. Marik was sad. Kek put a hand on Marik's leg. Marik's eyes blinked into focus. "Was I wrong?" Kek whispered.

Marik's fingers laced with Kek's. "You were great. I'm..." His breath shuddered. "My feet hurt. I want to sleep..."

Kek looked down. They were both barefoot. They'd been running on sand, pebbles, concrete... and he was Marik's shadow. Always had been. He'd protected him from his dad's abuse by being the scapegoat. He'd protected him from being killed by killing first. He'd protected him from becoming a murderer by becoming a murderer for him. He looked up. "I'll carry you."

"What about you?"

Kek shrugged. Yes. He hurt. His feet, his stomach, his face, but no more than the usual amount, really. His butt was sore and that was new, but it didn't have anything to do with carrying Marik.

"We need shoes," Marik sighed and looked at the sky. "We'll need food, soon, too." He closed his eyes and groaned. "And clean clothes. We can't hide you under that sheet forever." His face slipped back into his hands. "Fuck..." He murmured.

Lost on what else to do, Kek folded his arms in Marik's lap and put his face in them. A bathroom. That's what they needed. Those had water. He could clean up. But he knew even less about the world than Marik. He'd have to do something about that if he wanted to be Marik's shadow. But they were both tired, and sometimes Marik wanted to sit and cry, and it was best to let him.

Kek heard a shuffling sound next to them. He peaked out from under the edge of the sheet. He thought it was a ghost at first, sitting quietly at the far end of the bench. A ghost shaped like a boy. On closer look, he wasn't transparent. Just pale. Very pale. He had a backpack. He didn't seem anymore aware of or interested in his surroundings than Marik. But Marik noticed Kek looking sideways and followed his gaze. Two pairs of eyes must've done it, because the pale boy finally looked at them as well.

The pale boy narrowed his eyes. "What are you staring at?"

Marik blinked. "You speak Arabic?"

The pale boy shifted, though whether it was to face them more fully or put himself between them and his backpack was unclear.

"Are you from... around here?" Marik pushed, either not noticing or ignoring the defensive body language.

"Why?" The pale boy asked.

"We've never been in this part of the city before," Marik said. "Do you know where we are? Is the next bus coming soon?"

Red eyes slid down to Kek. To Kek's hand. Realizing his hand might still be crusty with blood, Kek pulled the sheet tight around himself again.

"Do you have money?" The pale boy asked Marik.

"No."

"You need money for the bus."

Marik sighed. "Of course we do... ugh..."

"You look weird," the pale boy said.

Now Marik scowled. "So? You look weird."

The pale boy laughed. "I know. I mean, you don't look local. Right? Where are you from?"

Marik tensed. Kek leaned closer to make Marik feel better, but he didn't have any reason to believe the other boy would attack. Nothing about his posture looked aggressive yet.

"Where are you from?" Marik shot back.

The pale boy nodded slowly as he reached into his pocket. "Will this break our standstill?" He pulled out a couple Egyptian pounds, but it was hard to see exactly how many in the low light.

Marik bit his lip. "We're from Sennen."

"The cult compound?" The pale boy sounded faintly amused.

Marik scowled and snatched the money away. "It's my town. It's where we're from." He counted the money. "Is this enough for the bus?"

"Maybe. I don't know where you want to go." He paused. "I have a problem. I think you can help me. If you do, I'll give you more."

"How much more?" Marik asked.

The pale boy looked at Kek. "I'll clean him up and give both of you a place to sleep."

Marik considered. "What's your problem?"

"I need you to throw something away for me."

Marik looked at the dumpster in the alley across the street.

"I need you to throw it in the river," the pale boy clarified. "It's about an hour away from here by bus. You go there, I'll take your," he cocked his head to see under the sheet, "brother to a hotel room, and you and I will meet up later."

Kek gripped Marik tighter. Split up? For how long? No. No, no, no...

"What do you want me to throw away?" Marik asked.

"It's better if you don't know," the pale boy said. "Don't ask questions about it. Don't look at it. Take it to the river, throw it away, and come straight to the meeting place."

Marik stroked Kek's head. Kek scowled up at him, and then scowled at the pale boy.

"Yeah, I know..." Marik tried to smile. Then he looked at the teenager sitting next to them. "I want breakfast and new clothes. For both of us."

"Instead of the room?" The pale boy asked.

"Also," Marik said.

The pale boy frowned at him. "Do I look rich?"

"Who are you? What am I throwing away? If you're so broke, why not do it yourself? Why can't we-"

"Okay, okay." The pale boy held up a hand. "I get it." He sighed, thinking. "I have a... thing that some... people called me, but I hate it. I haven't... figured out..." He trailed off, picking at his fingernails. "I'll make sure clothes and breakfast are included if you stop asking questions." His voice had gone soft. Sort of tired and defeated. When he looked at Marik again, his face was heavy.

Marik pressed his lips together and made eye-contact with Kek. "I..." Then he sighed. "I'd rather starve than separate from Kek." He squeezed Kek's arm. "If you're lying, I'd have no way to find you."

The pale boy growled and stomped his foot. "There were _people_ who called me 'Min,' but that's not my fucking name, so it doesn't fucking matter. I'm literally fucking _nobody_. Does that make you _happy_? Is that _enough_?"

Kek felt Marik tense and lean away. The pale boy hadn't raised his voice, but the rage rolled off of him in palpable waves. It was raw. It was honest. It was hard to fake that kind of rage.

Marik's brow creased. He opened his mouth, and then shut it quickly. "I'll do it," he finally said. "Where do I find you when I'm done?"

"It's called the Reem Hotel." The pale boy stood up and pointed at the bus map. "The stop is here." Then he pointed to a triangle of roads and bridges crossing the Nile. "That's the Sohag bridge. It's an easy landmark. Can you remember that?"

"Sohag bridge. Reem Hotel."

"Yes," the pale boy nodded.

"And you'll take care of Kek while I'm gone?"

"I'll return him in better condition than I found him," the pale boy promised.

Marik took a deep breath, and then faced Kek. His hands cupped Kek's cheeks as he made earnest eye contact. "Be careful," he said. "Don't... don't do anything you don't need to."

Sohag bridge. Reem Hotel. Kek looked at the map, trying to memorize where those two things were. It was hard, not being able to read any of the things written around it, but he could remember four words. Eventually, Kek nodded. The pale boy wasn't any bigger, older, or stronger than them. He could handle it.

The pale boy dug a wadded up plastic bag out of his backpack. "It's already tied up and weighted to sink. Don't mess with it."

Marik took the package and some cash for the bus. Then the pale boy took Kek's arm and led him away from the bus stop. Kek watched Marik over his shoulder.

"You'll see him in a few hours, I promise," the pale boy said. "We're just going to clean you up quickly."

Kek didn't bother to answer. The pale boy didn't push for conversation, intent on searching for something. Then on the dimly lit street, finally, some windows with light behind them. Stickers and posters covered some of them. Kek couldn't read the posters, but the pictures of food and drinks told him enough.

The pale boy tucked Kek into the shadows of the closest alley. "Wait here," he whispered. "Seriously. Don't move. Don't..." The pale boy smiled, "Okay, you probably won't talk to anybody. But stay here. Yes?"

Kek nodded, and then watched his escort disappear into the store. He really wasn't gone for long. He had a bottle of water and a wad of napkins with him when he returned.

"Give me the sheet," the boy said as he shrugged out of his backpack.

Kek pulled the sheet tighter, hesitating. Marik had told him to hide under it. Now didn't seem like an appropriate time to stop.

"I'm serious," the boy reiterated. "We're running out of night time and we need to get you into some real clothes. Hurry." He fumbled through the backpack until he found pants and a white t-shirt.

Kek licked his lips. He let the sheet fall off one shoulder, and then the other. Hesitant, suspicious, but compliant. Either the blood didn't look like blood in the dark, or the pale boy didn't care. He stuffed the clothes, the bottle, and the napkins into Kek's hands.

"You've got three minutes, maybe less. Clean up and change. I'll cover you." He held up the sheet with both hands, improvising a curtain.

Clean clothes. Great. Kek didn't need to be told twice this time. He shucked the soiled nightgown onto the dirty floor of the alley and poured half of the bottle over his chest and arms. Then he went to work with the napkins, scrubbing away as much blood as he could. The new clothes fit strangely. They seemed to be sized for the pale boy, and Kek was both taller and thinner. But they weren't crusty, or itchy, and they didn't smell like blood.

The pale boy frowned as he folded Kek's dirty nightgown up inside the sheet. "You're thinner than I thought."

Kek shrugged. It wasn't always easy for Marik and Rishid to sneak extra food to him.

"Doesn't matter." He reached up to adjust Kek's hair around his face. "Eye witnesses are notoriously untrustworthy. All they need to see is blond hair and dark-"

The tug at the old cut on Kek's scalp was light, but enough to make him flinch. The raking fingers hesitated, and then touched the spot more gently.

"Skin..." He trailed off as he leaned close enough to really see the puffiness of Kek's left cheek.

Kek tensed. He didn't have a weapon this time. How hard could he punch? If he needed to. Marik had told him he shouldn't do anything he didn't need to.

The pale boy withdrew. One arm wrapped across his stomach to cradle his elbow. He rubbed his mouth. Then he pointed at Kek's face. "That's recent."

Kek's eyes narrowed. The pointing hand flattened into a stopping gesture.

"I'm assuming that whoever did that isn't going to bother us..." He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

Kek didn't answer, but his eyes flicked impulsively to the bundle of cloth hanging from the pale boy's arm. There was so much blood. He must've noticed. But he didn't seem angry or scared yet. Kek knew perfectly well what both angry and scared looked like.

The pale boy smiled. "I get it. Assholery is the leading cause of vengeance. There's a lot of it going around. Relax."

"... No one will bother us..." Kek mumbled.

The pale boy nodded as he stuffed the rolled up sheet into his backpack. "Good. Try to keep your head down. Once we're safe in the room... the hotel has ice machines..." He grabbed Kek's arm to urge him out of the alley, and then let go once he was sure Kek would follow.

The pale boy was weird. Quick thinking, half-talking. But he knew, guessed, at least most of it, and he hadn't seemed to change his mind about giving them a room and food. Whatever he needed them for was more important than dwelling on the owner of the blood staining Kek's nightgown. If he was willing to be sneaky, then Kek was willing to trust him. For a while at least. To see how things panned out.


End file.
